L’Etape du Tour 2006: Gap – Alpe d’Huez

Andy Lack rode the Etape du Tour with several others from the club. With a classical route in the mountains, the 2006 vintage was a challenge that was too much for more than 2,000 riders on the day – but all the Kingston Wheelers finished, to their credit. Andy Lack explains how it went...

Was this the hardest Etape yet staged? Who knows – looking back there have been some pretty fierce routes and tough conditions, but the 2006 Etape was, on paper, not one for the faint-hearted.

At 191km and taking in the Col d’Izoard, Col de Lauteret and finishing atop Alpe d’Huez it demanded respect and we riders had trained accordingly. Or at least we thought we had. Some of us, it turned out, were in for a rude awakening.

The day started brightly, if a little early, with a 3.30am wake up call interrupting my sleep less than 5 hours after Zidane had shoved his head into an Italian’s chest. At least we’d been spared an all night French party. We arrived at the start to find all the toilets had been removed – to Alpe d’Huez we were told. A combination of 3 cups of coffee, several croissants and last minute nerves meant that my bowels were not going to wait that long, so a last minute panic ensued as we searched for a hotel to accommodate our needs. Ablutions performed, we were ready to get underway.

The hooter sounded at 7.00 am, just as the sun crept over the mountains and we crossed the line at 7.22 am. I was riding with Dan Royle, but there were at least 5 other Kingston Wheelers in the race – Matt Atherfold, Mark Gray, Stewart Anderson, Russell Seekins and Iain Marshall. All would finish.

Riding out of Gap, the first 57km took us over fantastic wide smooth roads, through some beautiful countryside and in perfect conditions. An average speed in the first hour of 36km/h told its own story, and this despite 200m of climbing between Gap and Guillestre. Unfortunately, the poorly placed feed station at Guillestre meant a bad logjam and thousands of riders were forced to walk for 15-20 minutes. Never mind, still feeling good I took on a gel and soon hit the lower reaches of the Izoard. No doubt this was a hard climb, although it didn’t really get going until the turn off the main road. From then on, it reared up through a village, before zig-zagging up a hillside to the famous Casse Deserte. The lower half averages 6%, but from the hillside zigzags to the top it’s 8% average and this soon began to bite. Nevertheless, the training kicked in and I completed the climb in a little over an hour, still with an 8 hour time in my sights.

Later riders complained of no water at the top of the Izoard, but I managed to grab a 6 pack from the back of a lorry and, once refuelled, headed for the descent. The hairpins at the top of the Izoard are tight and, on the second, a rider had fallen and, we found out later, had to be airlifted off the mountain. A sobering sight for the most fearless of descenders, which I’m not, so I proceeded to heat up my rims most of the way down until the road finally straightened towards Briançon. Still feeling strong, I passed the next feed station only to be confronted by Briançon’s 0.5 km, 1:8 high street. There were audible gasps from French and foreigners alike at this little surprise.

Nevertheless, we were soon on our way up the Lauteret. Its lower reaches are no more than 2 or 3% and I hooked up with three or four other Brits trying to jump from one group to another. I’d read something beforehand advising competitors not to underestimate the Lauteret. It’s officially 12km at 4.4%, but in reality it’s about 35km at 2-3%, with the steepest bits at the end. Whether I underestimated it or not, it was halfway up this climb that I suddenly noticed the heat and I, like others around me, was straight into the lowest gear (34x25) and, like others around me, wondering why I couldn’t get out of it on what looked like a straightforward climb. Certainly the rising temperature was slowing us down, but the Lauteret also taunts riders by revealing its summit some 10km from the end, luring you into attacking it when, in reality, it needs to be respected just as much as the other two climbs on the day.

By the time I got to the top, I’d revised expectations from an 8 hour finish to simple survival. The temperature was rising fast and, despite all the advice, I could not force down food as the heat removed my appetite. All my body would accept was liquid and that might not be enough to cover the remaining 60 or so kms. My only comfort at the top of the Lauteret was seeing the Galibier snaking away above us into the cloudless sky and knowing that we were spared that particular torment today.

A relatively straightforward descent from the Lauteret was tempered by the constant thought of the Alpe and the knowledge that I was now running on empty, with the air temperature rising as we headed into the Oisans valley. Again, the route profile suggested a straight descent from the Lauteret to Bourg d’Oisans but in actual fact, sections of it were flat with small climbs to test the legs. Talking to riders afterwards, these little climbs were a low point for many – we all thought the same… if I feel like this on these, how am I going to feel climbing 12+%? There was no answer, but we would find out soon enough.

Arriving finally in Bourg d’Oisans at the final feed station, I forced down a gel knowing that I needed something for the climb up to Alpe d’Huez. With just 14.5km to go I had reached Bourg in 7.20. Ah well, I thought, at least I’ll break nine hours.

Alpe d’Huez was the climb I had studied the most, and the one I had received most advice about, but nothing really prepares you for turning that corner over the bridge and seeing the first hairpin. The only consolation was that the road to the first turn was in shade. It was the only one that was, from memory. I immediately settled into pushing my lowest gear and just focussed on the road in front of me.

The official temperature in the valley was 34°, but riders with thermometers on their computers were registering 44° in the sun at road level. At every hairpin, in every piece of shade riders were stopping. Some for a rest, some for good (until they were picked up presumably). I saw people lying by the side of the road with temporary drips as the medics buzzed up and down the hill. Others walked, and others tried tacking from side to side to reduce the gradient of the hill. Me? Well, I was going so slowly and experiencing such tunnel vision that I had to stop in order to take on water, as I could no longer control the bike with one hand.

After hairpin 12, the gradient seemed to lessen slightly and then I passed the giant Kingston Wheelers jersey painted on the road which raised my spirits immensely, albeit briefly. Spectators were drenching riders in water, the sprinklers were on and every available mountain stream had clutches of riders filling their bidons and shoving their heads under. I stopped at three hairpins to take on water until finally arriving at hairpin 1 only to see that there were still 2km to go! Only 5% to the finish from there, but it felt like 25 and, despite the crowds at the finish, there was no glorious sprint for the line. I tottered over the line and somehow managed to unclip without falling over.

I’d completed the course in 9.08, taking 1.50 to ride up the Alpe which in itself tells a story. I’d left everything I had on the ride and, for an hour afterwards could barely raise two words. Of the other Wheelers I saw/heard from, Dan and Matt Atherfold finished soon after me, but were in a better state, although Matt had thrown up twice on the Alpe.

Stewart Anderson finished in an almost identical time and, a text message later on confirmed that Mark Gray had completed the course in 7.54 – an outstanding time in any conditions, but more so in that heat. The results confirmed that Russell Seekins and Iain Marshall also finished which was no mean feat on a day when 2,000 of the 7,500 were swept up. The winner completed the course in 6.01, thereby avoiding the worst of the heat. If only I’d followed his wheel…

Overall, it was a fantastic experience, both from the point of view of riding through stunning countryside and because it enabled many of us to explore our limits as well as have a tiny inkling of what the pros go through. In some ways it was quite a humbling experience and it left me thinking that the only way to train for those climbs is… to ride those climbs. As always, the pain soon fades and the talk on the way back is of the Marmotte next year. No, really.

Mark Gray7.54.41
Stewart Anderson /td>9.0.07
Andy Lack 9.0.42
Dan Royle 9.30.45
Matt Atherfold9.46.26
Russell Seekins9.47.53
Iain Marshall11.38.39